Scars
by CosmiQuorraHolmes
Summary: Arwen Kane has suffered a heck of a lot in her life, and the only thing she has to show for it are the scars she bears. Out of chance, she meets an old friend and a new one. Will her new relationship last? Or will it just be a scar on her heart? [Possible smut later on, rated T to be safe. Please review!]
1. Another Year

Four years. Four years since Arwen Kane returned from Afghanistan. Four years since she had went to see her family. Four years since the day she had found her mother and father's bodies on the newly red carpet, bloody and mutilated, their eyes open. Four years since she found the note:

**Welcome home, Arwen.**

**Jim x**

Four years since she made the first cut. Four years of regrets, four years of hate, four years of guilt, four years of knowing who killed the people she loved, four years of not knowing why. Four years. Four god-damned years.

It was time to make the fourth cut. Arwen gripped the knife in her right hand and put her other arm over the sink, looking at the three scars from the last three years. Tally marks, to remind her why she regrets, why she hates. She let the cold metal touch her skin and pierce through it, just deep enough to draw blood and let it trickle down her arm, a tiny red stream. She bandaged it after a few minutes, letting her skin pale. She'd cut it again once it had scabbed over, making it scar. It wasn't like she hadn't been scarred before.

* * *

Another knock on the door of 221B Baker Street was at least unexpected. It was answered by an excited Mrs Hudson, and the two flatmates from upstairs heard from the conversation that the visitor was not a client, but instead another person wanting to rent the basement flat. Sherlock groaned, John sighed and the guest came up with Mrs Hudson.

"John, Sherlock," said the landlady, "This is Arwen Kane. She wants to rent out the basement, and wanted to talk to you and see how it goes."

"Arwen Kane?" asked John. "_Major_ Arwen Kane?"

The guest laughed and Sherlock looked up from his laptop.  
_Early thirties, soldier, Afghanistan. Grief. Prisoner of war. Tragedy. Grief. Moriarty. Scottish. Grief. Moved to London four years ago. Insomniac. Grief. Pain. Friend._

"Hello again John," Arwen said saluting. John did the same, stopped, and hugged her tightly. "Jesus Christ, man," she grinned, "what's wrong?"

"We thought you...we, God, Arwen, when you," he said, tears slowly falling down his face. "You were pronounced dead. I, I was crushed. You were always there, then, poof, gone. What, what happened?"

"She was a prisoner of war, John," answered Sherlock.

"Sherlock, stop, its impolite to-"

"No John, it's alright. Please continue, Mr Holmes."

"Sherlock," he said, "anyway, early thirties, no offence, soldier, as shown by tan, military stance similar to John's, calloused hands from either manual work or gunfire, tan means either Iraq or Afghanistan, as you worked with John, Afghanistan is the only remaining theory. You were a prisoner of war, shown by constant paranoia and the scars I can see from your shoulder. The circles under your eyes show that you have insomnia combined with PTSD. You moved to London four years ago after a tragedy but you're Scottish by birth. And, you have something to do with James Moriarty."

Arwen smiled and said "Correct. That was amazing." She looked down and pulled up the sleeve on her left arm. "Four years, four cuts. Moriarty killed my parents the day I came home. No offence taken."

Sherlock smiled back and said "Only two people have said that."

Mrs Hudson coughed, reminding the three of them that she was there. "Now, Arwen, would you like to see the flat, or will you just leave it?"

She smiled and went down into the basement, waving goodbye to the men. Sherlock felt...something. He couldn't tell what it was, but it was there. He could tell that his heart rate quickened and he was breathing faster. His pupils were probably dilated and he was happier than ever.

"You alright, mate?" John asked, noticing all of the things Sherlock knew he had and continued "Oh my god, Sherlock Holmes is in love. Sherlock _bloody_ Holmes is in love!"

"Shut up," he replied. "I'm going to bed."

"Its one o'clock in the afternoon."

"Goodnight."


	2. It's Reciprocal

Arwen was moved in within the week, and was settling in nicely. She was a frequent guest of 221B and she didn't need Mrs Hudson to clean up after her. She ended up working with Molly as a pathologist at St Bart's and helped with a lot of cases. She dyed her blonde hair dark brown over the summer so she wasn't just some 'Dumb Blonde.'

Sherlock was obviously stressed out by the Moriarty case. Arwen could see that more and more each time she visited. So, that day, she went upstairs and found Sherlock laying on the sofa, his hands steepled, covering his mouth. John was out with Mary for the weekend, for what Arwen was going to do, was perfect, in case it became awkward. He saw her come in and she saw his pupils dilate and his breathing get faster, making Arwen smirk. She wore a loose short sleeved t-shirt and grey cropped yoga pants. Her hair was in a messy bun with a few strings of hair falling out.

"Sit up," she said, making Sherlock look at her, confused. "Just do it." He sat up and Arwen sat behind him, her feet by his knees. She lifted up the back of his shirt and put her hands on his shoulders, massaging them and getting rid of the knots in his muscles.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked. He was enjoying the massage but asked anyway, wondering where she learned how to do that.

"Take a guess. You've been really stressed recently, and my, my mum taught me how. I've done this since I was about six, so I guess I'm a body person. See, I'm not just smart and pretty," she laughed, as did he. She moved her hands down his back, going to just above the trouser line.

Sherlock turned around and said "My turn." he lifted up the back of her t-shirt, found that she wasn't wearing a bra, and smirked to himself. He did the same movements she did to his back, and saw the scars from her time as a prisoner in Afghanistan. He softly stroked each one, and to Arwen it was like a feather. He rested his head on her shoulder and whispered into her neck "I'm sorry," each syllable almost like a kiss. She held his hand and said

"I know." Her other hand stroked his hair, twirling the curls around her fingers. "Rogues."

"What?"

"That's who did this to me. Rogues. You won't find them. Balaclava-wearing morons who can't fight for shit," she laughed. "Oh, and Jim was my boyfriend, just before I became a soldier. He hated me for leaving, and held a grudge obviously. I guess I have a, thing, for sociopaths."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh," she said, turning around to face him and stroking his cheek, "I think you know what I mean." Arwen grinned and moved closer to him, her left hand on his chest, moving to unbutton his shirt. "Have you ever been kissed, Sherlock Holmes?"

He smiled and said "No, not willingly." "Then that makes two of us," she laughed. Arwen held his face in her hands and leaned in. She slowly pressed her lips to his, and it seemed like they sat there forever. They pulled away and laughed.

Arwen stood up and said "Goodnight, Sherlock."

"Goodnight, Arwen." Sherlock soon received a text from his brother: _Be careful. -MH_

What do you mean? -SH

_James Moriarty is her ex-boyfriend. He killed her family because he held a grudge. -MH _

I know, but surely he doesn't know where she is. He wouldn't dare to come here. -SH

_As I said, little brother. Be careful. -MH_


	3. Uncovered

**AUTHORS NOTE: I'd like to thank everyone reading this, especially SamanthaJane13 for urging me to update. :D I also want to apologize for the length of these chapters, they're written on my phone so they look longer on there. Thanks to everyone and I'll update on Friday.**

* * *

Arwen and Sherlock grew closer each day. They were still moving slowly but they were deeply in love. When John returned from Mary's house, he found Sherlock sleeping on the sofa with Arwen, a thin blanket over them. A feminine hand lifted up with a gun saying "Who are you?"

He laughed and replied "It's me. John. Are you two okay?"

"Yeah," she said smiling, and sat up. "He's slept since about half ten," Arwen looked him over with her tired grey eyes. "Congratulations."

"What?"

She started poking Sherlock, after a few minutes of nothing she kicked him off of the sofa and onto the cold floor. "Jesus Christ!" he yelled. "What? Why? Arwen? Oh hello, John. Congratulations."

"Okay, will you please explain."

Sherlock yawned and said "The little box in your pocket that you left with on Friday is not there anymore. And you've been talking about proposing to Mary for weeks now. So I thought it was an engagement ring. As per usual, I was right. How long have I been asleep for?"

"About nine and a half, ten hours," Arwen said kissing him on the cheek. "I'd better get dressed, now. I have to hand in my report for Lestrade, you know, the 'What was the body like' kind of stuff. Nice seeing you John," she stood up and walked downstairs in her Bambi pajamas.

Once she had left John said "What the hell was that?"

"I believe you know fine well what that was, John. Even Anderson could figure it out."

"So, its um, official then? You guys are, going out?"

"Yes. I think we were going to Scotland Yard together today, because we have the case and she has the report."

"Oh. Okay then."

* * *

The trio walked into New Scotland Yard, with Sherlock putting his arm around Arwen, and many people giving them weird looks.

Donovan laughed and said "Greg! The Freak has a girlfriend!"

"Well," said Arwen with a look of disgust on her face, "at least I don't sleep with married men, _Sally_."

Donovan was shocked and walked off. Lestrade came over saying "Sherlock, you've set a new record."

"That wasn't me this time, Jeff."

"It's Greg."

"Whatever."

"So, Arwen, have you got that report?"

She smiled and replied "Of course," and handed the files to him. "Sorry, Sally was really pissing me off." They all laughed and Sherlock, John and Arwen left to find Molly.

* * *

**P.S. Sorry, unable to update! Unfortunate circumstances, I'm afraid. Next Friday (28th of March) will be a chapter of this and a chapter of something else, too! **

**Hint: It has something to do with William Shakespeare. ;)**


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